There was another car parked next to it—an old car—a muscle car. I didn't know a lot about them, but I read the little silver emblem that told me it was a Camaro. It was candy apple red, and my first thought was that maybe he had someone else over—my mind instantly assumed it was his dad because of the classic nature of the car.
Sheila was curious about it, too. She was off leash, and she hopped out of my car (a small, silver Toyota) and began sniffing the tires on the classic hot rod.
"Come on, Sheila," I said. We headed up the path that led to the door. At a normal house, I would be tempted to walk around to the front, but in this case, the back door was much closer, and extremely inviting. It was a no-brainer that I would go to that one.
There was landscaping everywhere—beautiful plants, shrubs, trees, and flowers. It did not look like a bachelor pad. I couldn't help but look around as I made my way to the door. I glanced toward my right at the sprawling outdoor area. There was a courtyard vibe to it with cobblestone pavers and a water feature on the far side that made it look like water was flowing down the wall and into a basin at the bottom. I couldn't see into it, but I assumed there were fish at the bottom. It was enchanting, and I almost tripped over Sheila simply because I wasn't watching where I was going. She let out a little yelp when I ran into her.
"Sorry girl," I said, gasping and regaining my balance. I glanced at the door just in time to see Lance approaching it. He was smiling at me through the window, and I grinned back at him, waving a little. I blushed at having almost fallen—I was sure he had seen me.
Lance opened the door, stepped outside to join us, and stooped instantly. Sheila went right up to him, her whole back end wiggling around with excitement.
"You must be Sheila," he said. His smile was so genuine and irresistible that butterflies instantly started humming in my stomach. Sheila jumped on him, landing with her paws on his chest.
"Sheila!" I said as soon as she did it.
"She's just checking me out," he said, scratching her back with both hands as he looked straight at her face. He glanced at me. "Unless we're breaking some kind of rule or something. I don't want to mess your training up."
I shook my head, and Lance went back to greeting Sheila. "I've heard a lot about you," he said, talking to her. He turned his ear to her and pretended to concentrate. He made an expression like he was listening really hard, and then he glanced at me with a look of surprise. "She said she's heard a lot about me, too," he said, looking completely serious. "Have you been talking about me at home?"
"Well, maybe, she wasn't supposed to tell you," I said, shaking my head disappointedly at her.
Lance chuckled as he stood up, and Sheila bounced to the ground again, cozying up next to me with her tail wagging. Lance was barefoot, wearing cargo shorts and a baby blue t-shirt that fit him perfectly and made his blue eyes look lighter and even more striking than I remembered. His hair was damp and he smelled clean, so I assumed he had just gotten out of the shower.
He smiled at me as he reached out for a hug. It was just meant to be a casual greeting, but to me, it felt like so much more than that. I felt a tangible sense of relief as I went into his arms. He held onto me firmly, like maybe he was feeling the same way. I expected him to let me go after a second or two, but he just held me there. I closed my eyes, letting my face rest against his broad chest. I was holding him around his waist, and he had one arm behind my back and the other one securely wrapped around my head. I had danced with him before—I knew what he felt like—how big he was. But he had never held me like this. We both just settled into it. The only thing separating my face from his hard chest was a thin t-shirt, and I could feel the warmth of his skin and the up-and-down motion of his chest as he breathed. We held the hug for so long that Sheila jumped up on the side of my leg to get my attention. I didn't respond to her. I wasn't going to let anything distract me. The sheer level of relief was astounding. I was enveloped by Lance's embrace, and it somehow made me feel light and free. There was a hot, liquid feeling in my gut, like my insides might melt into molten hot lava. Still holding me tightly, Lance took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It caused a surge of emotion to course through me, and I felt tears spring to my eyes.
"Hello," I said weakly.
"Hello," he replied. He said it quietly, but his voice was deep, and I smiled at the way it felt against my ear. I seriously never wanted to break this hug. I wanted to stay exactly there—right where I was—for the rest of my life.
Sheila scratched my leg, her little paw gently grazing my skin, reminding me she was waiting. I took a deep breath, working up the nerve to step back, break contact. We had held the hug for what must have been a full minute. I was dizzy from it.
Chapter 10
"I was just about ready to never let you go," Lance said with an easy grin as we pulled back.
"I was just about ready for that too," I said, casually, reaching down to pet Sheila. I sighed. "What a day," I added, as a little bit of an excuse as to why I had just inexplicably held onto him for so long.
He stepped back, heading toward his door. "Do you want to come in? I could get you something to drink, or eat even."
"We had a late lunch," I said, shaking my head a little. "Plus, I don't quite trust her to stay out here with all this fun, new stuff and not wander off."
"She can come in," Lance said. "Unless you just want to go down to the shore for a walk. Either way's fine."
I peered into the house through the window. "I'd love to see inside, if you're sure you don't mind her coming."
"Not at all." He stepped closer to the door. He reached out to open it for us, but he hesitated when I spoke.
"It's so beautiful out here," I said, pointing at the courtyard patio area.
He glanced that way. "Thank you. Most of it was like this when I bought the place. I just do my best to maintain it—not kill the plants. My mom has to remind me to water them half-the-time when she comes over."
"Was the water feature here?" I asked.
He shook his head. "That's the only thing I added."
"Are there fish in the bottom?"
"There are. Nothing fancy. Just a few goldfish."
"Goldfish are fancy," I said with a little too much conviction.
"Oh yeah?" he asked with an amused grin at the fact that I was acting like the expert.
"Sure. If you get the kind with the fancy fins."
"Well, maybe they're fancy, then," he said, still grinning at me as he opened the door.
"Is your dad here?" I asked.
"No. Why?"
"I saw that old car parked next to your truck, and I guess I just assumed…"
"You thought that car was my dad's?" he asked, sounding amused.
Sheila followed us into the house. We came into the kitchen, and I looked around at everything. The kitchen and informal dining area opened to the living room. It was a big space. There were floor-to-ceiling windows on the far side of the living room that looked out at the water in the distance.
"My dad would actually probably drive one of those, but that's mine," he said as I tried to take everything in.
I glanced at him. "Really? You have two cars?"
He nodded. "My whole life basically revolves around the store. Sometimes, very rarely, I take the day off. On those days, I don't really feel like driving a truck with a logo on it, so I thought I'd get something fun. I've always liked old cars, and it's all souped-up. It's fun to drive."
I nodded at him as I continued to take in my surroundings. I didn't know what to say. I couldn’t believe all this was his. I couldn’t believe this house, that car was his. I could still see it parked there when I glanced out of the window. It wasn't the type of vehicle I expected him to own. I could picture one of the musicians from the studio driving something like that, but not Lance. Not that he wouldn't look good in it, because the opposite was true. I had just assumed he drove the truck and the car was someone else's. He constantly surprised me.
; We stood in the kitchen while Sheila strode around, checking things out—sniffing everything. Lance didn't seem to be bothered by it, so I let her continue.
"Will you take me for a ride sometime?" I asked.
"Of course. You can drive it if you want."
I beamed. "Really?"
"Do you know how to drive a standard?"
My face fell. "No."
"Well, we've got to remedy that," he said.
"Oh, my goodness, no. Not on that car. I'm not gonna break your… antique."
"You can't break it," he said.
I laughed it off as I meandered toward the living room, gazing out the windows. His property was lined with palms and other types of bushes and shrubs, and the ocean breeze caused them to sway. I stared at them, feeling like they were waving at me. The fluid, back-and-forth movement was soothing, mesmerizing.
"It's crazy how the wind makes those trees move," I said as I stared at them absentmindedly. They almost seemed to dance as they shifted and swayed with the changing direction of the wind. "It's almost like under water, you know? Like that coral they have at the aquarium."
I had walked all the way to the window as I spoke, and Lance followed me. He came to stand next to me, staring out the window the same as I was.
"Sidney, no kidding, I have those exact same thoughts. I sit here and see the trees as coral and sea plants all the time." He pointed to the left, at the property line where his grand palms continued to sway. "It's one of the things that brings me closer to God—helps me appreciate His grandeur and His design. We live in an atmosphere just like the fish do. He moves the wind just like He moves the water currents. It doesn't feel the same to us, because all we know is air, but it's just as crazy and just as much of a miracle as an ocean environment."
We stared out the window as he spoke, and I imagined the earth as one big aquarium. I could see what he was saying with how the trees moved just like underwater coral.
"When you look for His fingerprint in nature, you find it everywhere. The design really is amazing. I think about how much He must love us to have created it this way, you know? If He wanted to create life, He could have just done it like an ant farm. He could have just created a surface for us and left it at that. But instead, He made something so intricate and full of wonder. I come out here every evening, and every evening, without fail, there is a different sky for me to look at. Sometimes it's full of color, sometimes there are clouds that look like someone honest-to-goodness painted them with a paintbrush, sometimes there are dark, ominous-looking clouds, and sometimes it's just all blue or all grey. Every single day, He creates a different backdrop for me. He gives me a picture in the sky that constantly changes. I just can't help but be thankful when I think about His creation. He must really just love us to make something so beautiful, you know?"
Lances words caused tears to sting my eyes.
It was a truth that I took for granted. I was thankful to him for reminding me that God cared enough to paint a different picture in the sky every day. I wanted to respond, but I couldn't because I was afraid my voice would betray me. I was tired and spent from a long day, and now, he was being so sweet. I knew if I blinked, tears would fall onto my cheeks.
"I didn't mean to get all deep on you or anything," Lance said when I didn't look at him or respond.
"You didn't," I said instantly, turning to look at him.
It was then that he noticed my eyes. He could see they were watering, and he smiled as he reached out to put his arm around my shoulders and draw me in.
"It's true," I said, wrapping my arm around his back for support. I rested my face on the side of his chest. "It's so true, and I just take it for granted. I never even think about it like that. There really is something beautiful about contemplating the simple things."
"It is true," he said, gesturing toward the window to the view of the water and sky. "I have the same view out this window, and every day, it changes."
"I bet it's so wonderful to just sit out here in the evenings and enjoy it."
"Do you have a view from your condo?"
"Not like this," I said.
I was still leaning on him from when he reached out for me, and I straightened, taking a step away when the thought of my mom crossed my mind.
"My mom lives on the same floor. Her condo's on the back side of the building, so she gets a little view of the ocean. We're on the second floor, though, so even at her place, there's some buildings and stuff in the way." I shrugged when I realized it might have sounded like I was complaining. "It's nice though, and we can see the sky, that's for sure. Goodness, I can see it from my car, or my classroom. I can see it from anywhere. I just need to remember to look up and see what God painted for me that day."
Just then, a huge bird landed in his front yard. It was almost magical how it just glided down and landed on its feet. "Blue Heron," he said.
Sheila caught sight of it and began barking and pacing in front of the windows like she couldn’t wait to get out there.
"You see that bird?" I asked.
Sheila looked up at me, tilting her head intensely like she really understood me.
Lance laughed and reached down to pat her head. "I wonder what she'd do if we let her out there," he said.
I glanced out the window again. He had a large front yard, but there was a street between the edge of his yard and the waterfront. It wasn't busy, and Sheila was pretty well trained, but I just wasn't sure what she would do if the chase was more tempting than my calls.
"I think she'd do okay, but I'd hate to chance it and have her run into the road."
"You wanna put on her leash and walk down there?" he asked.
I nodded. "Sure."
The Heron flew off as soon as we opened the sliding glass door. I put Sheila on her leash, and we headed outside. It was funny how one conversation could do such a thing, but I had a whole new perspective on my surroundings. As we walked, I took time to appreciate God's grand design.
We took a left when we reached the shore. Lance lived on more of a lagoon, so the shoreline in front of his house was narrower than it was near my condo. Either way, Sheila was accustomed to beach walks, and I let her off leash so that she could splash around in the shallow water as we walked.
I had such a good time with Lance. We talked about all sorts of things, laughing and comparing stories—me about my students, and him about his employees and family.
"That's my parents' house," he said, gesturing toward our left some time later.
I seemed to remember him mentioning in a previous conversation that his parents lived close by—I thought he said it was a mile. We had been walking slowly, so it didn't surprise me that it had taken us a while to make it that far. It also didn't surprise me that the house he indicated was beautiful and inviting. The sun was low in the sky, and I held up my hand to shield my eyes so I could get a better look at it.
"That's where you grew up?" I asked.
"Yep. Mostly. We moved in when I was in the fifth grade."
"It's gorgeous," I said, marveling at how very different our childhoods must have been.
"We could go up there if you like. I'd love for you to meet my parents. And, chances are, they've got leftovers from dinner." He paused and glanced at his watch. "It's after seven," he added. "If we stop by, one of them could give us a ride back. It'll probably be dark by the time we make it back to my house otherwise."
"What about Sheila?" I asked. "They've got a dog," he said. "A Lab."
Of course they did. I swallowed hard, fighting against all the insecurities that rose up inside me. Part of me was falling for Lance and wanted to just act normal and meet his parents like any sane person would, but the other part of me (which was also falling for Lance) feared that meeting them would only confirm how very different we were. I was normally a pretty confident person, but I just wasn't sure that I brought enough to the table in this case.
"We don't have to," he said, seeing my hesitation.
"No
, it's not that I mind, I just don't want to barge in on them."
"I want you to meet them," he said. He turned and let out a loud whistle. Sheila was used to our forward momentum and had gone a little ways up the shoreline without us. She turned at his whistle, and ran back to us. I felt tightness in my chest at the fact that he knew how to call her and the fact that she responded. This man was taking pieces of my heart at an alarming rate. I blinked, staring at the house, and then glanced at him, smiling nervously.
"Sidney."
"What?"
"There's nothing to be worried about."
"Okay," I said with a sigh.
"Seriously," he said, reaching out to touch my hand.
I held onto him when he touched me, and I felt a real, true jolt of electricity where our skin made contact.
"You don't have to if you don't want, but they're good people, and they'll love you."
"Okay," I said. "Let's do it."
Chapter 11
Don and Maggie Evans had a beautiful home. It was warm and welcoming with lush flower gardens and lots of shade provided by two huge Oaks and a breathtaking Banyan tree. The part of the yard closest to the road was open and sunny, but the farther we walked up the driveway, the more it felt like we were entering some kind of magical fairy land. I had put Sheila on her leash, and it was nice having something to do with my hands as we approached.
"Look what we have here!" a man's voice yelled.
I didn't see him at first, but as I scanned the front of the house, I found him. He was near the far corner of the house, and he stood up, stretching his back. He had on work gloves and was holding a large, metal tool—a wrench, from what I could tell.
We continued to walk toward him, closing the gap between us. I hadn't expected Don Evans to look so young and full of life. He was like a slightly older version of Lance with those same broad shoulders and kind smile. He had sun-darkened skin that made it obvious that he spent a lot of time outdoors. There was grey in his hair and little laugh lines near the corners of his eyes, but otherwise, he looked young enough to be Lance's older brother. It was difficult for me to reconcile this man with the person who had retired so that Lance could take over the family business.
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